


What the Hell is a Rinse Cycle?

by dobrien



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bottom!Stiles, College Student Derek, College Student Stiles, Derek is a werewolf, Exhibitionism, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stiles Stilinski Doesn't Know About Werewolves, Stiles is Not a Virgin, Top!Derek, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-05-09 18:18:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5550548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dobrien/pseuds/dobrien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a student who doesn't know how to work a washing machine and Derek is the one to notice him struggling and help him out. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles was confused and desperately needed help but his pride was getting the better of him. I mean, come _on_ , how hard could it be to use a washing machine? It turned out they involved a lot more buttons and settings than Stiles had first thought. What the hell is a rinse cycle? And what does the hanger symbol mean? 

Stiles rubbed his hands over his face stressfully, eyeing the white machine through the gaps in his fingers, _glaring_ at the machine that was defeating him. He had managed to go three whole weeks at college without the need to do laundry, but suddenly finding he had no clean socks in his draw and having to resentfully ask his roommate if he could borrow a pair just for the day had been enough to embarrass him into gathering his dirty clothes into the basket his father had bought for him and make his way down to the laundry room. 

There was only one other person in the room, a tall man with black hair and facial hair that made the resting bitch face he had going on look even more fierce. Yeah, Stiles wasn’t asking him for help. Sighing remorsefully he took his hands away from his face and leant them on the top of the washing machine, leaning on it and bowing his head, sighing loudly in the too-quiet room. 

“It shouldn’t be this hard to wash my fucking clothes.” Stiles berated. He had taken his phone with him, maybe he could just call his dad and he’d be lucky enough that he wouldn’t be busy on a job. He was just about to give in and call for help when someone started speaking to him. 

Stiles whipped his head up, staring wide-eyed at the other male; the same one who was using the machine at the end of the row, “Uh, sorry what?” Stiles asked dumbly. 

The man chuckled, a smile disrupting the scowl. He had a nice smile, all white, sharp teeth. “I asked if you were alright.” He repeated, appearing amused at Stiles’ problem. 

“Oh.” Stiles nodded, gazing back at the washing machine with disdain. “I, um, I’m a freshman and I’ve never used the machines before…”

“I can show you if you want?” The man offered, still smiling. 

Stiles wanted to defend himself, tell the stranger that he didn’t need help and that he was an adult now, he could do this, dammit! Instead he replied desperately, “I don’t want to call my dad for help because I’m supposed to be an adult now and-”

The other man held his hand up to halt Stiles’ rambling, “Dude, relax. You know to separate whites and colours, right?” Stiles nodded because of course he knew that it was basic knowledge wasn’t it? The other man was talking again before Stiles could reply with anything snarky, “Okay well just put one of those capsules in the drum, put the clothes in, and set it to the temperature you want them washed at.”

Stiles followed the instructions the other gave him and when he got to the last step he looked over at him helplessly again. “How do I know which temperature to use?" 

“Thirty degrees C is usually fine, more eco-friendly too.” The taller informed Stiles, now leaning against the machine next to Stiles’ casually. 

“Okay,” Stiles said as he set the temperature, “is that it?”

“You need to set the dryer time too; an hour will probably be enough for normal clothes.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the help.” Stiles thanked the stranger as he pressed start and the machine whirred to life, clothes spinning quickly. “I owe you, I wish I could do something to repay you.” Stiles said as he put the container of washing capsules into the basket his clothes had been in. 

The dark haired man hummed and stepped away from the washing machine he was leaning against to step into Stiles’ personal space, his smile turning into a smirk. “You could tell me your name.” 

Stiles swallowed and tried not to make his step away too obvious. “That is the worst line I've ever heard, but I’m, um, I'm Stiles.” The stutter kind of ruined the confidence act.

“I’m Derek.” 

Stiles coughed awkwardly, “Well, um, thanks for the help… Derek."

“You’re nervous, Stiles.” Derek stated, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re making me nervous.” Stiles accused back.

Derek laughed, “You don’t need to be nervous.” 

Stiles tried to glare at Derek but it faltered when they made eye contact. “Are you going to hold this favour I owe you over me? Because-” 

Derek was quick, hands moving to grab Stiles’ hips, surprisingly gentle, and tugging him towards him, not quite touching. He leant forward so that his mouth was by Stiles’ ear, “Not if you repay me now. Are you single?" Stiles nodded. "Perfect." Derek pressed forward, lips brushing over the younger boys neck suddenly.

Stiles’ breath hitched and his hand went up automatically to Derek’s chest. He pushed at him, but he didn’t budge. Relenting Stiles whined, “What makes you think I want to do anything with you?” 

Derek chuckled and nosed at Stiles’ neck, “I can smell arousal on you, am I wrong?” Stiles didn’t get time to question how Derek could possibly _smell his arousal_ (that was definitely there), because Derek was running his nose along Stiles’ jaw line, breathing calmly over his skin. “You like the idea of doing it in here, don’t you?” Derek taunted, “Someone could walk in here whenever they wanted but you don’t care.”

Stiles’ breath hitched as the light grip on his hips tightened and warm lips were kissing his neck, dragging down to the junction where shoulder met neck. “Are you going to get a move on or are you so good that you think you can make me cum just by rubbing your saliva on my neck?”

Derek scoffed, pulling away enough to pick Stiles up by his thighs and dump him on top of the neighbouring (and thankfully empty) machine. “Maybe one day I’ll try… but for now I think I’d rather do it the old fashioned way of fucking you.” 

Stiles moaned unashamedly, legs winding around Derek’s legs and using the heels of his feet to pull him closer. “I’m up for that.” He agreed, leaning in to kiss the man whose hands were currently rucking up his shirt.

What the actual fuck was happening right now? Stiles wasn't sure if he wanted to overthink the situation- it was like a plot to bad porn. Maybe he'd accidently walked onto a set, thinking it was the laundry room. That _would_ happen to him.

Derek splayed his hands up Stiles’ stomach and chest to play with his nipples as they kissed. Growing impatient he pulled away, yanking the shirt over Stiles’ head before he could protest over the lack of contact. “Tell me if you want to stop.” Derek said seriously as he started unbuckling his belt, eyes on Stiles.

The younger scoffed, “Yeah like I’m gonna want that.” 

Derek rolled his eyes as he dropped his belt to the floor, his leather jacket following it. “Humour me.” 

“I’ll let you know if I want to stop.” He ran his fingers over Derek’s biceps and down to the hem of his shirt which he took between his fingers. “It’s not like we’re committing to BDSM or something.” 

Stiles could have sworn the elder’s eyes flashed red but it was probably just the adrenaline pumping through him as he lifted the thin material, exposing the best abs he’d ever seen- and Stiles had been on the lacrosse team in high school. 

When his shirt was off Derek started working on Stiles’ jeans, roughly undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. “Careful dude, I can’t afford new clothes just because you’re horny!” Stiles complained. Derek grunted in reply, pulling his shoes and borrowed socks off before lifting Stiles with one arm and pulling the jeans down with the other. Stiles was a little impressed, just a little. Maybe a whole lot. The guy was strong!

“I’m not doing all the work here, get mine off.” Derek murmured into Stiles’ shoulder where he was now leaving kisses and small nips. Stiles fumbled, not as graceful as Derek, as he reciprocated the action of undressing him. Derek pulled his lips away from Stiles long enough to push his jeans the rest of the way down and then step out of them after slipping his own shoes off, shoving them over to rest with Stiles’ clothes, but not before taking his wallet from his pocket and placing it next to Stiles.

Stiles pulled Derek back to him, kissing down his neck to his chest, mouth working its way over to each nipple, licking and biting a few times on each before moving downwards. When he couldn’t get any further due to his position on the washing machine Stiles used his hands to run over hard muscle and smooth skin, fingers dancing over a trail of coarse hairs that lead down into Derek’s underwear. 

Derek’s hand grasped Stiles’ wrist, pulling his attention back up to his face. “No time.” He informed the younger before grasping his face and pulling him into a rough kiss, rougher than the last few, more urgent. Derek let Stiles kiss and lick at his neck while he flipped open his wallet to find the packet of lube, now relieved that one of his flatmates, Boyd, had convinced him it would be a good idea to keep some there. 

Stiles bit down and sucked on Derek’s neck, opening his eyes which had shut when they were kissing, to assess the damage. Except, there wasn’t any. The marks that should have been left from Stiles’ teeth and mouth weren’t there, tanned skin even and inviting. He didn’t question it, however, because Derek was picking him up and sliding him onto his back. Warm hands were sliding over Stiles’ thighs, gripping the waistband of his underwear and pulling them down his slim legs. 

“Lube?” Stiles asked hesitantly, the reality of what was happening finally dawning on him. 

Derek nodded, picking up the packet for Stiles to see. “You sure you want to do this?” Derek asked again, although his instincts were telling him to take the younger student _now_ because he was there, spread out before him, and he knew that if Stiles hesitated he wouldn’t be able to continue. 

“It only takes one look at my dick to tell you the answer to that, my friend.” Stiles laughed, lifting his hips eagerly. 

Derek grinned, ripped the packet and poured most of its contents onto his hand, rubbing it over his fingers. He pulled the younger (in what Stiles would later call the hottest way ever) towards him by his legs and leant over his body as one finger slipped into Stiles smoothly. Stiles keened, hips canting upwards, mouth opening obscenely. 

“I’m not going to break, c’mon!” Derek rolled his eyes at the demand but decided to be nice and added a second finger, scissoring them and stretching the responsive boy underneath him. He kissed along Stiles’ jaw and neck, mouthing at the pale skin, mapping the moles that were scattered over it. 

“Third?” Derek murmured the question into dampening skin and didn’t wait for an answer before adding a third finger. Stiles groaned loudly, pushing back against the fingers inside him, all thoughts of someone walking in gone and replaced with pleasure and lust and _Derek_ , the hot guy he’d met less than half an hour ago. “Got to be quiet sweetheart.” Derek said sweetly, a smile playing on his face as Stiles squirmed on top of the machine, toes curling.

“I’m not - _fuck_ \- I’m not good at- _shit_! I’m not good at quiet.”

Derek chuckled, “I’ve noticed.” He crooked his fingers and quickly covered Stiles’ mouth with his own when the slighter boy let him know that he had found his prostate. “Ready?” He asked, sliding his fingers out of Stiles and chuckling at the groan of displeasure the other made. 

“So totally, incredibly, ready. _Fuck_ your fingers are incredible.” Derek rubbed the remaining lube from the packet onto his dick after pulling it out from its uncomfortable place in his underwear, letting himself moan quietly as his dick finally got some attention. Stiles leant up on his elbows and grabbed Derek’s wrist before he could go any further, eyeing him as if he were forgetting something vitally important. “Condom?” Stiles queried, raising an eyebrow at the elder.

“Don’t need it, can’t get you pregnant and can’t get- haven’t got anything.” Derek hoped the almost slip up had gone unnoticed.

“You don’t know that I don’t, and you expect me to believe that you don’t? Someone who looks like you doesn’t _not_ get laid on the reg.”

“I’m not sure I understood all of what you just said but don’t worry, I’m positive we have nothing to worry about. Do you trust me?” 

Stiles hesitated for a moment before nodding, letting himself lay back down on the machine. “I trust you.” He insisted when Derek still didn’t make a move to continue. 

Derek smirked, lining up and pushing in, gently, much to the surprise of Stiles. He started moving after a moment and okay, wow, Stiles may not be a virgin but _holy shit_ did it feel like it because he was sure he would cum any minute. 

“Not gonna last long.” Stiles muttered into Derek’s neck, cheeks heating up at the confession.

Derek kissed his way along the younger boy's jaw to his mouth where he briefly slipped his tongue in before making his way back to his neck, where he nuzzled, pressing sloppy kisses down until he got to Stiles’ shoulder where he left an impressive bruise- more like a bite mark. 

Stiles came not long after, biting his lip hard enough to bleed –it didn’t though, much to Stiles’ gratitude- and he clenched around Derek, hands scrambling at his back, nails leaving brief red scratches. 

“Fuck, _Stiles_.” Derek moaned, his knot growing as he came, catching on Stiles’ rim as he thrust a few more times before stopping completely, buried as deep as he could into the younger boy who was looking up at Derek with a dazed look in his eyes. 

“What- what is that?” Stiles asked as he recovered from his orgasm, legs loosening their hold around Derek’s hips. 

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles to hold him up, helping him into a more comfortable position than laying on hard plastic. He was muttering things like _’should have given you a pillow’_ and _’should treat mate more carefully’_ which, okay, was a little weird to hear said about him, but Stiles has more pressing issues. For example, the fact that Derek’s dick, which was still inside him despite the fact that Derek had cum right after him, seemed to be growing _bigger_.

“Der’k what’s- what’s up with your dick?” Stiles’ arms were wrapped around Derek’s neck as Derek kept a tight hold around his waist. 

“My knot.” Derek replied, voice muffled as his face was buried in Stiles’ neck. “Didn’t know it would happen, sorry.”

“You’re _knot_?” Stiles questioned in slight horror, “Isn’t that what happens to dogs?” 

It felt like Derek was smiling but Stiles wasn’t sure, let himself be squeezed tight by inviting arms. “It’ll go down, normally ‘bout twenty minutes but this is the first time it's happened to me so I can't say for sure.”

“Oh-okaaaayy,” Stiles dragged out the word, brow furrowing in further confusion. “Well obviously we have a lot to talk about.” 

Derek didn’t reply, just kissed behind Stiles’ ear, making a contented noise. Stiles huffed at the silence but finally allowed himself to relax into the warm body. They just had to hope that no one walked in while they were still joined.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people wanted a sequel but I never got around to it because I was writing so many other things. Now it's finally written, I've decided to just upload it as a second chapter.

Stiles sat nervously in his dorm room as he waited for Derek to return. When they were… disconnected, he helped Stiles get up and dressed and insisted on walking him back to his room, carrying his basket in one arm and holding his hand in the other. Stiles had kept his head down as they walked, anxiety making it feel as if everyone they passed were watching them, scrutinising him. If anyone was watching, Stiles knew, at the back of his mind, that it was most likely because Derek was hot, and if any of Stiles’ classmates were around they would likely be intrigued, rather than judgemental. 

A knock on the door pulled Stiles away from his thoughts and he stood up too quickly, head spinning slightly in his haste to open the door. “Uh… hi,” Stiles fumbled, stretching the sleeves of his sweatshirt down further over his hands.

“My roommates will be leaving the apartment soon, I figured it would be nicer to have more privacy to, uh, discuss this.” Derek was smiling, less confident looking than before, but still quite sure of himself. The difference now was the _way_ he was looking at Stiles, it was as if he meant the whole world and more to Derek. Stiles couldn’t deny that, that frightened him a little. 

“Sure, I’ll just get my jacket.” Stiles went to his wardrobe and took his jacket from the hanger. His was making a production out of it, hand getting caught in the inside pocket. Before he could break a finger Derek was helping him into it, rubbing his arms in an attempt to sooth him.

“I’m sorry I’ve put you through this.” Derek murmured gently. “I’ll explain everything, and if you don’t run away…”

“I’ll listen.” Stiles spoke quietly, wringing his fingers. “Um, where’s your dorm, then?”

“I live off campus.” Derek replied, taking Stiles’ hand once again and leading him out of his room, snatching the keys from the desk to lock the door behind them. 

“Then why were you using the washing machines?” Stiles asked, confused. At the back of his mind, he knew he was just looking for an excuse to fill the silence.

“Ours is broken.” Derek replied, smiling to himself. “Almost feels like fate…”

Stiles couldn’t help but scoff, “Fate isn’t real. Everything happens but there isn’t a reason for it. You don’t believe that bullshit, do you?” 

Derek frowned, “No, not exactly.”

“Sorry.” Stiles looked up guiltily, “I didn’t mean to offend you I’m just...” He trailed off, words failing him.

Derek shrugged, “You’re entitled to your opinions, nothing to apologise for.” 

Out in the parking lot Derek stopped in front of a black sports car and Stiles rolled his eyes. “You’re not trying to pull that trick, are you?”

Derek laughed, “No, I own it.” He pulled keys from his pocket and unlocked the car, a smirk on his face. “I take it you like it?”

Stiles laughed, “I drove my mum’s old jeep when I was in high school. I’ve never been in a car this expensive before.” 

“Frist time for everything,” Derek winked at Stiles, opening his door and climbing into the car.

The drive wasn’t long but Stiles savoured every moment of it, enjoying the comfortable leather, the sleek feel. On the way up to Derek’s apartment, Stiles couldn’t stop himself from asking, “How do you afford this?” and immediately apologising for how rude he sounded.

“Don’t worry about it.” Derek sent Stiles a smile. “And did you mean the car? It was a gift from my parents.” 

Stiles whistled, impressed. 

When they arrived at Derek’s apartment block he unlocked the door and let Stiles enter first, locking the door behind them. “Take a seat.” Derek motioned to the couch that filled up the room that acted as an entrance and a living room in one. “Want a drink?”

“I’m okay, thanks.” Stiles replied, placing his shoes where other pairs were sitting and hanging his jacket up on one of the hooks.

The furniture was all a pretty shade of grey with white shelving units to compliment the dark colour. It was all very… modern, and expensive looking. It was also, almost too, clean looking, as if it wasn’t the home to college students. 

“Are you’re, um…” Stiles asked as Derek sat down beside him, stumbling over his words. “Are your… roommate’s home?”

Derek chuckled, “No.” Stiles nodded, pursing his lips as he surveyed the room. “I think we should just get the explanation out there.” Derek suggested, watching Stiles’ reaction.

Stiles looked back over to Derek. He looked nervous. “Yeah-yeah dude, sure.” 

“Don’t… please don’t run or shout or interrupt, okay?” Stiles took in a shuddering breath and nodded, trying to remain calm. “Okay. Okay. I’m a werewolf. I don’t- not like in _Teen Wolf_ , I’m not Michael J. Fox or whatever other shitty werewolf movie you look like you’re thinking about.” Stiles blushed in embarrassment, though he was sure part of the reason there was a flush on his face was because Derek was trying to tell him that he was a mythical creature. “The- my knot. It only happens when we have sex with our mate.” Derek stopped, letting Stiles take in what he had said. Stiles' face was suddenly worryingly pale. “You don’t- this isn’t a life-long commitment. You can leave. But- but it’s like soulmates. We don’t have to be together, but we could be. It’s my body’s way of telling me I could put up with you for the rest of my life.” 

Stiles snorted. “Good to know you could ‘put up with me.’” 

Derek rolled his eyes. “You know what I'm trying to say. Is that all _you_ have to say?”

Stiles shrugged. “I don’t really know what I’m supposed to say, Derek. You just… like, what kind of person just tells the person they just had sex with that their a _werewolf_? What the fuck?” 

Derek put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair a few times. “This is serious, Stiles.”

Stiles frowned, watching Derek carefully. “Yeah…, yeah okay, I believe you. I believe you.” He repeated himself, to try and convince himself more than Derek.

Derek let out long breath, smiling slightly. “What do you think of it?”

Stiles shrugged. “I think I made my opinion of you pretty clear.” 

Derek laughed shortly, smirking. “Would you agree to a family dinner with my parents? I think they deserve to know about all this. Maybe not… maybe not how we met.” Stiles’ pale face flushed once again at the thought. “And you… you need to know everything, before you commit. Do you have any questions about this? About me?”

Stiles thought over what he could ask before he replied, careful when choosing his words. “Can I… can I see?”

“My shift?”

“If that’s what it’s called, yeah.”

“Yeah, of course. Um, turn around?” Derek stood up, getting himself ready to shift.

He let Stiles know when he was ready and Stiles turned around looking a mixture of nervous and excited. “Holy shit.” Stiles murmured, crossing the space between them in a few long strides until he was close to invading Derek’s personal space. “I guess that’s a new kink to add to the list.”

Derek’s nervous frown turned into a full blown grin and he reached his hands up, pulling Stiles in for a kiss, fangs and claws retracting. By the time he pulled away Stiles’ fingers were in his hair and his lips were red. “‘Add to the list’, huh?” 

Stiles bit his lip, removing his hands from Derek’s hair slowly, reluctantly. “We have time discuss that.”

“Family dinner first?”

Stiles nodded, leaning up to kiss Derek once more, quickly, “Probably a good idea.”

The pair let go of each other so that Derek could call his parents, Stiles sitting at the kitchen table as he listened to Derek’s side of the conversation. 

“Yeah, yeah, I think he’s okay with it. I haven’t told him everything, but he’s, uh, good with weird.” Derek looked Stiles’ way as he spoke, a smile on his lips.

Stiles laughed at the comment, but didn’t deny that the situation was weird. How he was going to explain it to his dad, he had no idea.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing smut so hopefully I didn't completely mess it up. If I should add any tags please let me know as I'm fairly new to this website! 
> 
> Also, _I can't believe I just wrote this_.


End file.
